


Till X

by Theaudiablegasp



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Confused Lance (Voltron), M/M, Pirate Keith (Voltron), Pirate Shiro (Voltron), Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 23:34:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theaudiablegasp/pseuds/Theaudiablegasp
Summary: The man in the red coat was not helping Lance figure out how he got on this ship.XI have decided to carry this on, and I have rewritten the first chapter because I've finally figured out the plot!





	Till X

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I still hadn't gotten onto Lance in my other fanfic and I missed him. I have not checked this for mistakes so i'm sorry if there are. The title is not definite so feel free to come up with some ideas. Enjoy!

Lance awoke with a bucket being poured over him. The water hit his face, instantly awaking him from his sleep, causing him to writhe like a fish out of water and make him blink deliriously in the unfiltered sunlight. His squished his face into the, huh, wooden floor, to hide from the unwelcome interruption from his snooze. He licked his lips.

Salty. "Why's it salty?" He asked nobody, or maybe he was asking the bucket that had been place infront of his face.

Had he hit his head?

A foot directed him onto his back, annoying him greatly as it caused a hellish ringing, which he had been blissfully ignorant of, to explode inside his head with renewed vigour. 

A hand brushed by his cheek, moving his hair so that he could feel hot breath as someone leant down to speak into his ear. He subconsciously moved towards the person, feeling their lips curve and nose hit his jaw as they opened their mouth to say -

"WAKE UP YOU MISER'BLE LOWLIFE!"

He snapped up on instant, gasping from the shock of feeling cold metal pressed against his, irritatingly fragile, windpipe. He wanted to cry for help, but steeled himself to small huffs as the knife dug into his neck.

"Now tell me." He felt stubble drag across his cheek as the man turned his face towards his ear again, stopping him from properly seeing him as he settled his chin on Lance's shoulder. "What you think you're doin' on this ship." 

The 'p' was especially plosive, making Lance jump out of his skin, and causing the knife to cut his neck.

"Ship? What ship? I've never been on a ship before in me life." He looked around him, taking in the wooden deck; the crew watching the pair out of the corner of their eyes; the masts; the full sails and the sea. He couldn't take his eyes off the sea. Now that was strange, how come he was floating in the sea, without a boat? 

He blinked slowly.

"Well now I know you're lying." The gruff voice was still in his ear, the bony chin digging into his shoulder sharply. Could this man stop talking? Lance was in the middle of an exponential crisis right now. 

Blindly, he slapped the man's arm off of his gullet, obviously surprising him with how easy it was to move it out of his way. He still didn't move his gaze from the never-ending blue as he stumbled his way to the the side of - whatever he was afloat on. He squinted at the horizon. What was going on. How did he ge-

"How did you get here?" He stopped staring at the sea to rotate his body, flopping heavily onto the railing, and sliding his feet on the floor as he tried to gain his footing. His aggressive alarm-clock/suspected capturer had swapped the dagger for a larger sword which he pointed towards Lance dangerously. "Answer me, before I run you through." 

He arched an dark eyebrow. Lance blinked heavily, his head spinning wildly, unable to stand up straight due to the relentless rocking of the craft. The man in front of him was obviously used to it, adjusting his stance to keep himself balanced as if it was second nature.

Lance discreetly flicked his eyes up and down the man, trying to jog his memory on who this guy was. Black boots, off-white breeches and a stained shirt. A black bandana not-so-subtlety hid the man's black mess of hair, the locks slightly stiff from salt water, matching Lance's somewhat damp, salted curls. The most noticeable thing about the man was the bright red cropped coat, like the ones Admirals and prestigious Captains would wear in military parades. He was missing the row of medals, and some of the gold decorations had frayed from years of use.

He didn't remember him.

"Oi" the man clicked his fingers infront of his face to gain Lance's attention, making him focus on the scar running down the side of his rough cheek. He took notice at Lance's dilated pupils and unsteady footing and pursed his lips. "Are you drunk?"

Lance shook his head vehemently. "Who dare youuuu," he had moved his arm to point at the man accusingly, loosing his balance and taking a step to the right to catch himself. "Kidnap meeeee," he moved his finger to point at his own chest, this time lurching to the left and closer to the red coated man.  
"And take me to your float'ng wheelbarrow," he gestured his arms around wildly. "And then ask how I got here." 

He put his arms on his hips, (one hand taking a few tries as he uncoordinatedly tried to get it to land on his hip and stay there,) daring the man to come up with an excuse as to why he had taken him. 

The man lowered his blade, brow now furrowed in utter confusion at the ridiculous young man aboard his...wheelbarrow?

And how had the boy only been found now? They had cast off from land just over two weeks ago. They hadn't met any other crafts from which the man could have come from; and with how ridiculously drunk the lunatic infront of him seemed to be, it's a wonder no one had reported or even appeared to notice the loudmouthed stowaway until this sunrise.

He shook his head, grabbing the man's collar and dragging him across the deck to the Captain's quarters.

·

He pushed the boy down the stairs, his head ploughing open the door to the tune of a vulgar "Arsehole!" The red man stepped harshly on Lance's back as he made his way into the room, ducking in the small doorway.

At the desk sat a muscled man, frame covered in a large black coat, a tricorn hat with spectacular white and black plumes hid his face as he used a pair of compasses to walk across a map sprawled infront of him.

He looked up as the man stomped in, revealing a heavy scar across the bridge of his nose. "What is it Keith?" He asked tiredly as he went back to the map.

Keith sat on the desk, flicking the man's hat so he looked up in weary irritation. 

"Who's that?"

The other man shrugged.

"I don't know Keith, who is he?"

"He is an idiotic drunk who has somehow managed to come aboard, take a kip on the deck, and then accuse us of kidnapping him."

Shiro looked at the boy intensely, a harsh, scrutinizing look practically pining him to the floor.

"Where'd he come from? We haven't been t' land in two weeks."

Keith stood up, resting his hand on his sword hilt.  
"That's the point, I've done the rounds everyday and not once 'ave I seen him, none of the crew recognise him and then 'e seems to be drunker than a mouse drowned in ale, even though our stores 'aven't been touched." He said, his voice showing the annoyance he felt.

The man on the floor was useless as far as he was concerned, a _pretty_ useless aye, long legs and tan skin in some weird blue long-johns type get up - but useless all the same. He obviously wasn't made for life at sea, his arms gangly; skin smooth and hands dainty and completely free of calluses from an easy, workless life.

"What should I do with him?"

Lance had managed to bowleggedly stand up during Keith's talking, wobbly making his way over to the table. 

"I ain't a drunk," he said angrily, having to put all his weight on the table to stay up. The two sailors looked at each other. 

The red one, Keith, spoke.  
"Who are you then?" He questioned.

Lance smirked, strutting over the best he could in his less than perfect condition, draping himself over Keith luxuriously. "I'm whatever you want, sugar." He looked up at him through his lashes, not letting the disappointment show when he saw the unimpressed look on the man's face.

"Well that's great, Keith." Lance looked towards the man behind the desk. "One of the men brought a whore onto my ship and you decide to waste my time introducing me to him. You must've just missed him when you were doing the rounds." Keith pushed Lance off his lap and onto the floor aggressively, placing his hands on the table. 

"I said he wasn't here yesterday or any of the days before, cause he wasn't! He wasn't on the ship until sunrise this fuckin' morning when almost tripped over him sleeping like a baby in the middle of the deck! This is your ship isn't it? You should know who's on it!" He slammed his hand on the table. Angrily, he turned towards the boy, hoisting him up from the floor and slamming his head onto the desktop. 

"WHO ARE YOU?" He shouted in his face. Lance landed on the map, his attention being drawn away from the agitated man, towards one thing and sticking on it.

"...arus" he muttered, eyes not wavering from the island on the map.

"What?" The older man reacted instantly, also standing up to look down at the pinned man. "What did you say?"

"Arus." His voice was stronger now as he pushed against Keith and stood up. He placed his finger on an unlabelled island. 

The men looked at him, eyes wide.

He worried his lip between his teeth, mind working at a mile a minute to find the significance behind the island under his finger.

_Arus. Now what did that mean again?_

Keith had taken a step back, pulling his dagger out and looking at his Captain for guidance. The man had pulled the map from underneath his finger. He looked up at the boy.

"Are you positive?"

Lance nodded his head, mind still foggy apart from that one word. Arus. 

"How?" Keith spat out, eyes narrowed untrustingly. "How did you know we we're searching for Arus?"

How did he know? He wasn't sure for a moment, but then it all came back with disgusting clarity. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pocket watch he had somehow been ignorant of till this moment. He flipped it open, the click echoing around the room. He felt the two men lean over to look inside the locket. The clock face was ordinary, roman numerals circling the outside - the hands frozen at I. 

It was, in all honesty, slightly anticlimactic. 

Keith took the watch from him, tilting it to the light so that an inscription on the inside could be seen.

" _Till X._ " He read allowed, before turing back to Lance for an explanation.

Instead he was met with a pearly white grin, as the boy grabbed back his watch and took a step back. He threw his arms out as he proudly announced:

"I'm here to guide you!"

**Author's Note:**

> So I did not write this with the intention of finishing it but if you want me to drop a comment or kudos! I'm really interested in your opinions on how this could go cause I only have a couple of ideas. Kisses xxx
> 
> 3rd sep -  
> Hii so I rewrote this first chapter because, surprise surprise I wrote and posted it whilst drunk-which was kind of a mistake XD but after rereading it I've decided to carry it on and u can hopefully expect another coming out soon! X


End file.
